Wearily, I lay my hand against the wooden wall. Suddenly I felt a brief spark of warmth from one of the runes. A strange tingling pulsed through my fingers. I caught a whiff of something, not quiet a deeling. Pushing my fingers to the wood, I concentrated harder. I thought of Elen, lying alone on a floor of woven boughs. Help her, please. She has given me so much. In a flash, I understood. The first rune spoke its meaning directly to my mind, in a deep, resonant voice that I had never heard, yet somehow always known. The Seven Songs of Wizardry, one melody and many, may guide ye to the Otherworld, though hope ye have not any... Excitedly, rune by rune, I read my way up each step of the stairwell. Often I paused, repeating the words to myself before proceeding. When at last I reached the top, the sun's first rays were filtering down the stirwell and trembling over the runes. During the night, the Seven Songs had been carved on the walls of my mind just as they had once been carved on the walls of Arbassa. Excerpted from The Seven Songs of Merlin by T. A. Barron All rights reserved by the original copyright owners. Excerpts are provided for display purposes only and may not be reproduced, reprinted or distributed without the written permission of the publisher.
